


Of Being Gentlemen and Lovers

by jusrecht



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victorian AU. In which Siwon is a love-struck Romeo and Kangin his sarcastic, long-suffering Mercutio who finds love in the most unexpected place. Except not really. Crack. Humour. Romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday fic for my beloved sister who asked for a KangTeuk fic. But I, being me, just had to include WonKyu in it. Happy birthday, dear sister ♥

  
**In which Kangin almost spent the night in jail.**  
  
It was the mark of a true gentleman to be able to stand tall in any situation.  
  
Kangin deliberated on this quaint piece of wisdom as he watched his friend smoothly navigating the dangerous waters of a parley with a grim-faced police constable. That Choi Siwon was a gentleman through and through was a fact impossible to contest; it was discernible in everything he did, from the way he dressed and carried himself, to his cultured voice, refined speech, and impeccable manner. Even in this dingy setting, with an underpaid officer of much inferior status as his interlocutor, his trademark poise and civility remained firmly above reproach.  
  
Which was why, as unfavourable as the current situation might seem, Kangin was fairly confident that his predicament would end in a matter of minutes.  
  
“This way, sir.”  
  
The constable sounded resigned, if a bit resentful. Kangin quickly rearranged his position on the hard, wooden bench which constituted the entire furniture provided in the holding cell, and closed his eyes, feigning a light doze.  
  
“If you do not get up in the next three seconds,” Siwon’s less-than-amused voice firmly cut through his pretence, “I will gladly let you grace this place with your presence for another night.”  
  
Cracking open an eye, Kangin grinned at the tall man frowning down at him. “Moments like this remind me why I treasure our friendship so much.”  
  
“Oddly enough, they seem to have the reverse effect on me,” was his friend’s dry retort. “The next time something like this happens, I’m not going to lift even a finger, let alone make a visit to a prison at such an unearthly hour only to pay your fine.”  
  
“That is what you said the last time too,” Kangin murmured, slowly rising to his feet. The door had been unlocked and the constable was now standing at a respectful distance, away from the two of them. Clearly, the memory of Kangin’s rowdy arrival earlier that night was still fresh in his mind.  
  
“Come,” Siwon said with a sigh. “It’s almost four in the morning.”  
  
“Four o’clock in the morning is nothing to you when you are wooing a lady,” Kangin muttered, following his friend out of the police station to a fog-riddled London night—or early morning, as it was.  
  
“Well, unless I have been very much deluded in the last ten years, you are not a lady, are you?”  
  
“Thank you, dear friend, for confirming my position in your priority ladder,” he said wryly.  
  
A coach was waiting for them outside, along with a coachman and a groom who quickly jumped in attendance at the sight of their master. Kangin could finally feel a wave of relief wash over him once he had been safely ensconced inside. Putting up a brave, cavalier front might be somewhat of his specialty, but a prison was _still_ a prison, even for a man of his calibre.  
  
“So,” Siwon spoke again once the coach had started moving along the cobblestone street, “do I want to know what sort of catastrophe it was which landed you squarely in a prison cell? If I remember correctly, you were about to play cards when I left.”  
  
Kangin shrugged, mood rapidly souring once more. “Just some kid being annoying.”  
  
“It fails to explain why I am bailing you out of jail at four in the morning.”  
  
“He started it.”  
  
“Started _what_ , precisely?”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kangin said brusquely, closing his eyes to signal the end of the discussion.  
  
“Fine.” Siwon sighed and settled for silence for the rest of the journey.  
  


  


•

  
  


  
**In which Kangin found himself bullied by his own servant.**  
  
After spending the majority of the next day in bed sleeping and seething in silent frustration, Kangin came to a decision that he would leave town for a while. Whether it had anything to do with the adventure of the night before (as well as the humiliating defeat leading to said adventure) was not something he liked to dwell upon, and so he chose to ignore this aspect of the matter entirely. Kim Youngwoon did _not_ run away from anything, and certainly not from a thoroughly impudent young man who beat him at card through deceitful means.  
  
The next morning found him leaving the hustle and bustle of London under the pretext of a business trip. No one outside the close-knit circle of his small household needed to know the truth—that he was, in fact, retreating to his summer house in the country despite the early season.  
  
Or _hiding_ , as Siwon called it in his letter three days later, to which Kangin wrote a reply of five words that would definitely be frowned upon in polite company.  
  
After one week of nothing but nature and solitude, however, the prospect of going back to town (and consequently facing all the unpleasant aftermath of his disgrace) began to sound not quite as repulsive as it had been. After a second week, boredom was steadily and surely driving him closer to the brink of madness with its absolute lack of _anything_ to do.  
  
That and the endless display of touchiness from his manservant.  
  
“If you can’t make an effort to smile when you come into my room, then for the sake of everything that breathes, don’t come in at all.”  
  
“You are in need of dressing, sir,” was the coldly polite but clearly petulant answer.  
  
“I can bloody dress myself if I have to,” Kangin retorted, which only prompted a look best described as disdainful scepticism from his valet. Lee Hyukjae might have chosen valetry as a profession, but their close age and the fact that they had once been childhood playmates had brought their working relationship to a somewhat unusual—even questionable—ground.  
  
In other words, there were times when Kangin felt unsure if he was truly the master between the two of them.  
  
“It’s just for a few days,” he heard himself speak again when it became clear that Hyukjae had no intention of replying. “We aren’t going to stay here forever.”  
  
“By definition, sir, thirteen is _not_ a few.”  
  
That tone of voice would have earned any other valet an immediate and dishonourable dismissal. Instead, Kangin resigned himself to suffer Hyukjae’s ministration in silence as the younger man pulled and tugged at his clothes with more force than necessary. Kim Youngwoon, a formidable man by any other standard, could not even raise his voice to his own servant. He would have been the laughingstock of the entire society should any word of this ever leak out.  
  
Still, he never wondered if this unusual lenience had anything to do with how he had watched Hyukjae’s father drown eighteen years ago—or how he had pressed Hyukjae’s face against his chest so the younger boy would not _see_. All he knew was that some higher power had seen it fit to throw their lot together, and the unfortunate result was that he would have to endure the full brunt of Hyukjae's wits and occasional tantrums for a very long time.  
  
“My point stands,” Kangin said again as Hyukjae moved toward the dressing-table to fetch a brush. “This is just a brief stay. We’ll be back in London before you even know it.”  
  
“It doesn't change the fact that a few days wasted are a few days forever lost,” Hyukjae pointed out grimly, slapping the brush against Kangin’s shoulder. “In a battlefield, matters of life and death are often determined by seconds, let alone _thirteen_ days.”  
  
“For God’s sake, man, you’re talking about your obvious attempt to woo Siwon’s valet, not an _actual_ battle.”  
  
“It _is_ an actual battle for your lowly, humble servant, sir, but I understand if it seems but a trifling matter to a great man such as you,” was Hyukjae’s stiff reply, dripping with so much sarcasm that Kangin was rendered speechless for a few moments. Meanwhile, the slapping still persisted, now descending onto his back and seeming to have grown in intensity.  
  
“Alright, you know what?” He turned around and took the brush away from Hyukjae’s hand before it could inflict an actual bodily harm on him. “This has to stop—and I mean right now.”  
  
“If you say so, sir.”  
  
What soon followed as Hyukjae went around to tidy the room was the cold silence of an injured dignity. Kangin struggled with himself for fifteen anguished seconds before confessing his pride defeated once more.  
  
“He isn’t going anywhere,” he said weakly.  
  
“With all due respects, you cannot possibly know that, sir.”  
  
“Of course I do. Why else would a man with his kind of looks and popularity give you any time of day when he practically can have his pick of any pretty maid who is desperately scraping for his attention?”  
  
That he had said the wrong thing was quickly evident when Hyukjae’s expression turned even darker. “And that is precisely why I can’t afford to lose even one single moment. Surely this simple application of rational thinking does not escape you, _sir_?”  
  
Kangin resisted an urge to throw the brush he was still clutching in his hand. “You’re a total pain in the arse, I hope you know that.”  
  
“I would have said ‘so are you, sir’, but naturally a person of my status isn’t allowed the same freedom of speech.”  
  
“See?” Kangin threw up both hands in despair. “And I was just about to share some good news with you. But since you insist on annoying me so much, clearly I will have to reconsider.”  
  
There was a moment of silence as Hyukjae paused, holding two boots of different colours in his hand (no doubt another form of revenge) and eyeing him suspiciously. “What kind of good news?”  
  
“The kind that involves a letter which I might or might not have received yesterday from a certain friend of mine, and a paragraph in it which might or might not have entailed a certain valet of his.”  
  
Hyukjae was in front of him in a blink of an eye, setting down a pair of boots (matching colours this time) with all the grace and deference of a perfect servant. “What did it say?” he asked hopefully.  
  
“Of course,” Kangin muttered to himself, rolling his eyes; the absurdity of the situation—and the fact that he was discussing _his valet’s love life_ —did not escape him. “I should have known.”  
  
“WHAT DID IT SAY,” Hyukjae repeated, considerably louder this time that Kangin could not suppress a wince.  
  
“Fine, alright! He told me about this valet who prattled about you to his employer as much as you do to me. Or maybe not,” he added under his breath, “since obviously no one talks more than you do.”  
  
Hyukjae took a long, pensive moment to properly digest this piece of information, brows furrowed even as his fingers continued working mechanically on the intricacies of buckles and bootlaces. “I am unable to determine whether you are telling me the truth, sir,” he finally said.  
  
“Are you calling me a liar?” Kangin heard his voice rising a notch.  
  
“I merely insinuate that to have one’s way, one might feel compelled to resort to dishonest means.”  
  
“That’s calling me a liar, bastard.”  
  
“I certainly cannot convince you otherwise, sir, if you have already decided to think so.”  
  
For the seventh time that day, Kangin wondered what he had done to deserve this insolent man in his life. “Shut up for a moment and listen. Lee Donghae is valet to one of the richest and most popular men in England. He is far from lacking in looks, manners, style, et cetera, which means that he has all the opportunities to keep any company that he wants—and yet he chooses yours. So what are these facts telling you?”  
  
“That I have an overwhelming number of competitors?”  
  
“That you have nothing to worry about, damn it!”  
  
“But certainly as a countermeasure–”  
  
Kangin gave up. Two hours later, they were already well on the road back to London and he had Hyukjae sitting in front of him and smiling the entire way.  
  
“Shut up,” Kangin growled. “And stop grinning like an idiot.”  
  
Which only made the younger man grin some more.  
  


  


•

  
  


  
**In which Kangin discovered that a new kind of love was in the air.**  
  
It took Kangin another three days after his return to finally leave the safety his house and once more brave the trials and tribulations of social life, as presented by his club.  
  
The front door of the Blueline was, as always, closed to anyone with no membership claim to the distinguished gentlemen’s club. Kangin, however, encountered no such trouble. The door swung open almost immediately and Mr Shin, the manager of the establishment, greeted him upon entering with a smile and a message that his cousin was waiting for him.  
  
Kangin did not even pause to wonder how Kim Heechul could have found out about his return despite everything he had done not to advertise that fact.  
  
Sighing, he relinquished his hat and cane to the care of Mr Shin and made his way into the inner rooms, pausing every so often when his name was called by an acquaintance. It did not take him long to feel at home. The club might not be as large as some others, but it was exactly this comfortable atmosphere and close circle of patrons which made the place a favourite hideout among its members. The steady hum of conversation, occasionally punctuated by ripples of laughter from this or that corner, was everything he was familiar with. While the Blueline could boast among its patrons no small number of peerages and the _crème de la crème_ of society, everyone knew well enough to shed their social trappings at the door in return of a good time in a friendly, pleasant environment.  
  
Kangin knew, however, that he had to postpone any other pursuit until he had spoken with his cousin. He found Heechul in the smoking room, sitting in the company of his most recent conquest, Tan Hangeng, a handsome, quiet Chinese man who had a strange, pacifying effect on everyone around him.  
  
Heechul noticed his entrance at once, the beautiful face breaking into a smirk at the sight of him. “Look who has come out of hiding.”  
  
“Just because I’ve decided not to show my face in public for a few days does _not_ mean that I was hiding,” Kangin pointed out matter-of-factly, taking an empty seat at his cousin’s left.  
  
“Sulking then.” Heechul shrugged, tossing his shoulder-length hair. “Siwon said that a kid beat you at card and that’s the reason why you disappeared for two weeks.”  
  
“Siwon is a liar.”  
  
“Siwon is morally incapable to be a liar, so there is the fallacy of your argument.”  
  
Kangin was about to retort when their mutual friend’s arrival interrupted his line of thought. It was actually a wonder, he reflected wryly, looking up, how Choi Siwon could walk into any establishment and immediately more than half pairs of eyes in the room would be drawn to his direction, ladies and gentlemen alike. Which was just as well that there was no member of the fairer sex present, for in addition to being the heir of one of Europe’s leading banking families and the possessor of no little charm, the man was also famous for a smile which could send many ladies of distinction to their knees, their hearts stolen and their sensibilities at stake.  
  
The celebrated smile, however, was conspicuously absent at present. In its place was the most minuscule facsimile which only made its appearance when he noticed Kangin’s presence in the room.  
  
“So you’re back in town, aren’t you?”  
  
“Courtesy of your valet,” Kangin replied sarcastically. “Which reminds me, by the way, thank you for spreading lies about my business trip.”  
  
“Really?” Siwon raised his eyebrows. “I thought I had the information from the most reliable source. Courtesy of your valet.”  
  
Kangin spent about three seconds contemplating the advantages and disadvantages of murdering Lee Hyukjae before abandoning the ridiculous idea with a sigh and turning his attention back to his present companions.  
  
“One of these days, the two of them are going to leave service and elope to Gretna Green, and we are going to be sorely deprived of valuable manservants.”  
  
“Perhaps,” was Siwon’s distracted reply as he settled in a corner seat, away from the rest of them. Kangin felt a frown gathering on his brow.  
  
“What happened to you?”  
  
“Nothing,” his friend murmured, eyes avoiding him, and proceeded to open a newspaper. Kangin turned toward the other two who had been listening to their exchange in silence, giving them an inquiring look.  
  
“He’s in love,” Heechul declared after a moment's pause.  
  
There was a long silence as Kangin stared at his cousin in a mix of disbelief and uncertainty. “Did you just say that Choi Siwon is _in love_?”  
  
“As I live and breathe.” Heechul made a solemn gesture in front of his chest, although a smirk was clearly hovering at the corners of his lips. “And about time too if I say so myself.”  
  
“You are one to talk,” Siwon piped up from behind his paper.  
  
“Well, pardon me for resigning my membership from the school of the sceptics, but I have found my true love.” The older man threw a warm look at Hangeng, who reciprocated with a small, affectionate smile. (Kangin was valiantly suppressing an urge to make a disgusted face at this point.) “But I’m glad that you have decided to take a page from my book. How many hearts again did you break last year? I’m pretty sure I consoled at least forty-seven damsels myself—and who knows how many gentlemen suffering in silence because you wouldn’t even _look_ at them.”  
  
“And you _would_ , as I recall.”  
  
“I was a lost, misguided soul back then,” Heechul sighed dramatically, caressing the back of Hangeng’s hand. Kangin quickly decided that it was time for a swift and decisive interruption.  
  
“Wait, let me make sure that I understand this correctly. Somewhere during my absence, Siwon fell in love. This Siwon. _Our_ Siwon.”  
  
Heechul’s only response was a look which could roughly be translated into something along ‘are you a moron’. It was Hangeng who finally cleared his throat and decided to answer. “Yes.”  
  
Kangin felt the beginning of a grin on his own face “Well, that certainly explains why you suddenly stopped nagging me to return to town in your letters,” he said to Siwon who, for some unexplainable reasons, was still determined to hide his face behind a copy of _The Times_.  
  
“I have no idea what you are referring to,” was the other man’s frosty response, which only made Kangin's grin widen.  
  
“And who is the unlucky damsel? Are we expecting wedding bells, or is she a married lady and that is why you’re languishing here like this instead of professing your undying love for her?”  
  
That was when Heechul suddenly collapsed into a giggling fit. Kangin raised an eyebrow, but his cousin only hid his face behind his lover, who was clearly having difficulties resisting a smile himself.  
  
“You made a slight error,” Hangeng informed him.  
  
“What error?”  
  
“In your use of pronouns. It’s _him_ , not her.”  
  
There were two seconds of complete silence, after which Kangin did not stop laughing for five minutes straight. Siwon had been the only one among their circle of friends who had constantly refused to admit his preference on their own sex, always hiding behind the pretext that he would have to marry a woman to keep to his deceased parents’ wishes. That now he should have found himself falling for a man was not only ironic, but also beyond hilarious.  
  
“Are you done?”  
  
Kangin blinked his tear-misted eyes repeatedly and then looked up, for the first time noticing the other patrons who were shooting him concerned, even annoyed looks. Siwon had deserted his corner in favour of standing in front of him with arms crossed like an intimidating gaoler, but the sight only served to send another wave of hilarity through Kangin’s system.  
  
“There is a five-letter word for this sort of situation,” he finally managed to wheeze out.  
  
“Karma?” Heechul, having sufficiently recovered from his own fit, ventured a guess.  
  
“Irony, but karma works too,” Kangin said with a smirk, searching the pockets of his coat for a clean handkerchief. (Hyukjae had a habit of putting it in the most obscure and inaccessible corner he could find— _variation_ , as he called it.) “So, do I know this phenomenal fellow who has successfully made Choi Siwon eat his words?”  
  
“I doubt it,” said Hangeng, still smiling. “He’s new in town.”  
  
“And the two of you have met him? What does he look like?”  
  
“Not me,” Heechul admitted regretfully. “Hangeng, however, had the privilege to be present when this life-altering, earth-shattering, planet-moving event took place.”  
  
“Yes, by all means, you all have my expressed permission to keep laughing and making fun of me,” Siwon said dryly, seating himself in one of the closer armchairs. “A change, I should imagine, from what usually happens.”  
  
Kangin’s retaliation was prompt. “What was that five-letter word again, cousin?” he asked, unable to stifle another grin.  
  
“Karma,” Heechul repeated dutifully.  
  
“Thank you. Now tell me this, dear friend. How did you—in the incredibly short span of two weeks—manage to get yourself ensnared in this fellow's delightful charms?”  
  
“Since when has one needed a reason to fall in love?” Siwon said matter-of-factly, which made Kangin pause for a moment or two. He began to feel that whatever case of the heart afflicting his friend at the moment, it was nowhere near light or easily cured.  
  
“But what did he do exactly to attain your unattainable heart?”  
  
“He bumped into this young man and fell in love at first sight,” Heechul volunteered to provide a concise version of the story, since all Siwon did was glare at an indiscriminate spot on Kangin's forehead.  
  
Kangin frowned. “Is that it?”  
  
“It was _literally_ what happened," Heechul retorted. "What do you want me to say? Mr Choi was strolling along Jermyn Street when he came into collision with loveliness incarnate of the male variation who turned out to be the love of his life?”  
  
“But what does he even look like?”  
  
“It does not matter,” Siwon interrupted them coldly.  
  
“You, my friend, care about aesthetics more than even our royal princesses do,” Kangin said mercilessly. “Of course looks _matter_ to you. Or are you telling me that he is as ugly as a horse and that is why you’re avoiding the subject?”  
  
“He is more beautiful than the moon, thank you very much. I will not have any insult directed to his person, even from an intimate friend of mine.”  
  
The fierce response made Kangin pause—again—and maybe even gape a little. From his right, Heechul affected a little cough and murmured, “Like I said, he’s in love.”  
  
“Obviously,” Kangin muttered, half to himself. “I still don’t understand why being in love makes you snappy though. Does this person—whoever his name is—does his preference lie solely with the fairer sex?”  
  
Kangin watched, with mounting interest, as Siwon’s expression shifted from stern to forlorn in a fraction of a second. “He has yet to react favourably to my advances,” the younger man finally said, despair clinging to every word.  
  
“Maybe he thinks you’re a creep,” Heechul commented dryly. “I know I would, if someone sent me eight bouquets of roses in the morning and eight love sonnets in the evening every single day of the week.”  
  
Kangin cringed. “Eight?”  
  
“They met on the eight this month.”  
  
“I see.” He nodded, trying very hard to keep his face straight and voice neutral. “You just can’t fall in love like any normal person, can you?”  
  
“But my affection knows no bound,” Siwon suddenly declared, eyes glimmering with unbridled passion. “How else can I convince him that he has bewitched me body and soul, and that my heart is no longer my own for he has stolen it, as easily as the stars steal daylight from the sun?”  
  
The thick silence which ensued afterward was only broken by Heechul’s bursting into laughter for the third time.  
  


  


•

  
  


  
**In which Kangin found his way into prison for the second time.**  
  
It was, in Kangin’s defence, entirely Heechul's fault. None of it would have happened if that cousin of his had not insisted to be stubborn.  
  
“I take it that the rumour about your running away to the country because a kid beat you at card is not true, right?” had been one of Heechul’s many taunts during supper.  
  
“A total myth,” was Kangin's heartfelt rebuttal.  
  
“So if I express an interest in meeting this undoubtedly fascinating individual, then you will have no objection?”  
  
Kangin had glared, scowled, and generally made menacing faces at his cousin’s direction to no avail. One hour later found the two of them making their way through the darkened streets of London to one of Kangin’s regular card clubs. Hangeng had excused himself under the pretext of an early engagement in the morning, and Siwon had outright refused to go to one of those 'heathenish places’, as he put it. (Kangin had a nagging suspicion that he had rushed home to write the next batch of love poems, but so far had not been able to obtain any proof to support this theory.)  
  
“You don’t like to play,” Kangin had pointed out just before they reached their destination. Heechul only shrugged.  
  
“I can watch.”  
  
And that was what he did. Being nowhere as good at card as Kangin was, Heechul chose to hover around the tables and basically disrupted any ongoing game with his comments and antics—which everyone oddly seemed to tolerate, even enjoy, to Kangin’s endless astonishment. He was still watching his cousin’s progress from table to table in half amusement and half consternation when a sudden eruption of laughter drew his attention to a corner table.  
  
And that was when he saw _the boy_ again.  
  
What followed next was a series of unfortunate events which blurred into each other in the horribly cluttered gallery of his mind. Kangin remembered approaching the table and putting forth a challenge, desire for vengeance roaring in his veins. He remembered the boy smirking at him—the only indication that neither his face nor the catastrophe of their last meeting had been forgotten. He remembered bits and pieces of the game, and how a single mistake completely unravelled his carefully planned stratagem. (The complacent look on the boy’s face totally did not help.) He also remembered seeing Heechul's face amidst the throng of spectators crowding around their table, watching the proceeding in silence with a strange gleam in his eyes.  
  
“You cheated.” He also remembered accusing his opponent, who had just scored another suspiciously easy victory against him.  
  
“You obviously think so,” was the smug reply. The surrounding tables had fallen silent, all eyes riveted to their direction.  
  
“And you think that I don’t have eyes.”  
  
“I think you think I think that you don’t have eyes.”  
  
That was when Kangin threw the first punch. If he had bothered to wait for a moment in order to assess the situation carefully, he would have realised the boy was a little taller but more lithely built than him—which opened the possibility that _he_ might be accustomed to relying on speed instead of strength. As his own experience with a street urchin five months ago should have taught him, this was the most dangerous type of opponent in a close-range fight. Kangin, however, did not allow himself to wait or to reconsider. He lunged at his smirking opponent at once, ready for a deadly confrontation. (The amount of wine he had consumed during supper was probably a significant contributor to this display of impatience.)  
  
And when he ended up in jail again later that night for destroying public properties—he had _not_ aimed for the post box, and yet, somehow, it was _there_ —Kangin would have cursed his stupidity to India and back if not for the fact that the cause of his misfortune was currently inhabiting the same cell as he did. His anger, neither dimmed nor soothed, followed its natural course and found its vent in a verbal spar, since a physical altercation would have brought the sour-faced constable back and Kangin really did not want to make his situation worse than it already was. Until Siwon’s arrival at least.  
  
“Didn’t run fast enough this time, did you?”  
  
“At least I didn’t _dive_ into a post box,” the boy spat back, his own knuckles scraped and bruised. Kangin felt a lingering throb at the left side of his head, and wondered if it had come from a blow or from a collision with the aforementioned box.  
  
“No, you dived into a prison cell.”  
  
“Listen to the pot calling the kettle black.”  
  
“A _very_ black kettle.”  
  
“Black is an absolute colour, my honourable lord pot of potdom. You cannot say that something is _very_ black unless you’re an idiot.”  
  
Kangin was at the brink of giving into his urge to pummel the boy’s face when the door leading to their holding cell was opened from the other side. The constable strode in, followed by a well-dressed man who, to his excessive disappointment, was not Siwon. The man’s expression darkened immediately at the sight of his companion.  
  
“You should be ashamed,” he spoke in a soft, well-bred voice which nevertheless managed to convey the impression of anger.  
  
“ _He_ should be ashamed,” the boy said petulantly. “I didn’t start the fight.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter. You should have governed your temper better.”  
  
“Tell that to this bast–”  
  
“Kyuhyun!” the man interrupted with a shout, just as Kangin bellowed, “Because you cheated, you son of a bitch! Don’t think that I’ve forgotten!”  
  
The silence which followed was colder than ice. The constable, Kangin noticed, had retreated into a corner, clutching his truncheon tightly in front of his chest.  
  
“Wait for me in the coach,” the gentleman finally spoke again, his tone leaving no room for any argument. Kangin did not wonder when the order was quickly obeyed—although not without a last, hostile glance at his direction. Neither was he surprised when the man turned toward him and inclined his head slightly.  
  
“I apologise for my young cousin’s behaviour.”  
  
Perhaps it was the excessive politeness, or the apology itself, or simply the fact that this person—who had the most attractive pair of lips he had ever seen, Kangin could not help but notice—had to see him in this less-than-flattering condition. All he knew was that his irritation suddenly flared up once more. “You should have put him on a leash,” the words had left his mouth before he could decide on a more appropriate answer.  
  
The gentleman’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Once again, I apologise,” he repeated, voice suddenly icy. “We shall take our leave now. Good night to you, sir.”  
  
He turned around and Kangin was left to stew in his regret and anger alone for two long, excruciating hours—because Siwon was clearly holding a grudge against him and did not arrive until then.  
  
  
 ** _End Chapter 1_**  
  
  
---


	2. Chapter 2

**In which Kangin could not escape (the thralls of) a certain gentleman.**  
  
The universe, Kangin reflected grimly, clearly possessed a sense of humour—a twisted one, that was.  
  
For after running into each other four times in the mere span of one week, Kangin would be inclined to think that he had been sufficiently punished by every higher power presiding over the fates of puny mortals such as himself. After all, their disastrous first meeting had occurred in a place as unflattering as a prison cell—with him being in the wrong side of the bars, no less.  
  
But no, of course not. Upon entering the brightly-lit, luxurious foyer of the Royal Opera House, Kangin quickly discovered that a fifth encounter was imminent. The man who had been haunting the many chambers of his mind with such alarming persistence could now be seen standing near the centre of the room with two other gentlemen whom Kangin did not recognise. He was immaculately dressed, as always, and gracing his face was a bright smile which had never appeared in Kangin's presence before.  
  
And to complete this portrait of his misery with a gilded frame, he soon found himself being pulled to the man's direction by a lady cousin of his. Kim Taeyeon’s deceptively smaller and thinner arm was a firm anchor around his, and Kangin could only stand by her side in complete silence as she introduced the gentleman in question as a certain Mr Park Jungsoo.  
  
“Mr Park,” he murmured, trying to ignore a sudden wave of utterly irrational satisfaction at finally learning the other man’s name.  
  
“Mr Kim,” was the scrupulously polite return, with a strictly correct bow and a perfectly indifferent smile. Kangin was forced to swallow a grimace of disappointment.  
  
In the past, a stiff bow and a frosty smile had been all the exchange they had deemed necessary before quickly parting ways once more, but current circumstances dictated otherwise. Taeyeon was smiling, clearly determined to make them better acquainted with each other—especially if the nails digging into the flesh of his arm were any indication. Kangin would have wondered at that, if not for the fact that most of his intellectual capacity was currently employed elsewhere (‘elsewhere’ being an attempt to determine why this gentleman had such a tremendous effect on him, although admittedly in a manner quite different from that of his diabolical cousin).  
  
One possibility was quick to suggest itself to his mind, which Kangin immediately dismissed on the grounds of sheer common sense. He did not believe in love at first sight. (He was, after all, not the hopelessly romantic Choi Siwon.) Besides, the suggestion itself was already too ridiculous to merit even a passing glance, let alone a full contemplation.  
  
Which did not actually explain why he felt the need to underline the point by being particularly nasty—but he did.  
  
“So you enjoy opera, don’t you?” Kangin asked when Taeyeon had turned her attention to the other two gentlemen in their little group.  
  
“Alas, I am still learning,” was the modest answer.  
  
“And your cousin?”  
  
The other man stiffened slightly, but his reply remained in the region of cautious and mannerly. “He is not a connoisseur, no.”  
  
Kangin’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “No wonder. Card, I believe, is his penchant?”  
  
“As is yours, I believe.” There, at last, a trickle of sharpness. Kangin felt his smile widen.  
  
“Not so much that I have no time for a more sophisticated form of entertainment. But I must say that I am relieved to avoid a meeting.”  
  
“I dare say he feels the same.”  
  
Kangin almost paused, but he was quick enough to master his surprise and nod. “Quite. After all, manners are paramount in polite society.”  
  
“I do not think, Mr Kim,” (and there was something here—perhaps in the way Park Jungsoo tilted his head up slightly, or the way his voice suddenly fell into a soft, almost dangerous region of a murmur—that rang a warning bell in Kangin’s head), “that you are the best authority to speak on the subject of manners.”  
  
“Are you saying that my manners are bad?” he demanded, eyes narrowed.  
  
“’Bad’ is a fairly mild and often ambiguous term,” the other man replied, meeting his gaze steadily. “In this case, perhaps ’atrocious’ would have been more suitable.”  
  
This time, Kangin did succumb to a pause. He did not expect the slight—not from this man—and yet here he was, the unmoving target of a volley of sarcasm.  
  
“I see that your cousin is not the only one with a sharp wit and a quick tongue,” he said when he finally found his voice. Jungsoo bowed his head slightly, a gesture of gratitude which conveyed _anything_ but gratitude.  
  
“You compliment me.”  
  
Kangin snorted as a scowl began to gather on his brow. “Certainly, if you consider being put on the same level as someone like him a compliment.”  
  
“Yes, I do,” was Jungsoo’s cold reply.  
  
“How very disappointing.”  
  
“It has become quite obvious by now, Mr Kim, that we have a very different understanding on what is to be considered ‘disappointing’.”  
  
“Your cousin is a jerk,” Kangin declared, the earlier stirring of irritation suddenly burning bright and hot in his chest. He did not miss the way Jungsoo’s eyes narrowed, how his jaw clenched in anger—and there was a moment of childish, blinding triumph before a sharp pain exploded in his right foot.  
  
“Please refrain from calling my cousin _names_ in my vicinity.”  
  
When he looked back on this exchange later that night, Kangin would berate himself for failing to remember that _this_ man was a relative of _that_ boy and therefore could be just equally dangerous. At the moment, however, the politely delivered warning only managed to evoke a stream of muttered curses from Kangin’s mouth as he strived to remain on his feet without an undignified limp. Two or three ladies, including Taeyeon, turned to his direction in surprise, but through the haze of pain Kangin could only remember the look in Jungsoo’s face, how those lips curled in distaste and those eyes shone with scorn.  
  
The sight bred a thick coil of shame in his chest. The sensation was something he had almost forgotten and he couldn’t say that he liked it in the slightest—but before Kangin could do anything about it, a bell signalled the opening of the door and the other man quickly inclined his head.  
  
“If you’ll excuse me, Mr Kim.”  
  
Kangin spent the entire four acts of _Aida_ cursing everything from the universe to the sturdiness of Park Jungsoo’s silver-studded cane.  
  


  


•

  
  


  
**In which Kangin realised that the universe truly hated him.**  
  
“So who is this man again?”  
  
Siwon began his explanation as they left the hustle and bustle of Piccadilly and turned toward Hyde Park, joining the slow current of afternoon strollers. “A gentleman who has just returned from abroad. His family owns a large tea plantation in India, and until recently, he has been conducting business with an importing company based in Bristol. Everything had been satisfactory until six months ago, when it was discovered that this company had actually been involved in a series of suspect, if not exactly illegal, dealings.”  
  
Kangin’s lips quirked upward. “But this gentleman, of course, deems that further business affiliation is now both undesirable and unwise, especially with a company which had fallen into such disrepute.”  
  
Siwon nodded. “The reason why he came to town was to look for a possible substitute. We met at a party and I happened to mention that I could introduce him to a friend of mine who owned a business in a similar line.”  
  
“First thing first,” Kangin interrupted, “how do you know whether he is trustworthy or not? And what about the current state of his business?”  
  
A faint shadow of discomfort came to his friend’s face. “I have taken the liberty to hire a private investigator prior to informing you. I hope you don’t mind.”  
  
Kangin raised an eyebrow, surprised and suspicious both. “Why, Siwon, I certainly didn’t expect you to go that far for me.”  
  
“It was only prudent,” the taller man said evasively. “But you have no reason to be anxious. With the exception of this unpleasant business with the company in Bristol, they are completely above reproach.”  
  
Kangin said nothing for some time as Siwon turned to greet and smile at several acquaintances of his—most of whom were, predictably, ladies of different ranges of age, including but not limited to a number of eager mothers who clearly had their eyes set on him for their young, unmarried daughters. As he was being introduced, Kangin amused himself with the idea of informing them of the ultimate futility of their effort, but in the end, refrained out of sheer compassion. After all, it was none of his business if his best friend decided to break every heart in London simply by playing the part of a perfect gentleman.  
  
Siwon, however, noticed the small smirk he had not been able to completely suppress, and frowned. “I was merely being polite,” he pointed out as they once more resumed their walk.  
  
“Oh, I know,” Kangin replied calmly. “But the question is, do _they_?”  
  
Siwon's countenance darkened, but he refused to fall into Kangin’s trap. “To continue our discussion,” he said instead, “I think this is an excellent business opportunity. But we’re about to meet him, so you don’t have to come to a decision right now.”  
  
Kangin shrugged his shoulders. “I certainly won't say yes unless I like the look of him.”  
  
Siwon blinked, then grinned. “Well, he is quite handsome if that is what you’re asking.”  
  
“No, it isn't,” Kangin growled, giving his friend a sour look. “And I'd appreciate it if you didn't twist my words.”  
  
“Are you sure? Because he really is–”  
  
“It still doesn't explain one thing," Kangin interrupted, raising his voice a little. "What’s in this for you?”  
  
The question successfully wiped the grin off Siwon's face and earned him a wary glance. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Do you honestly expect me to believe that you went through all this trouble out of the goodness of your heart?”  
  
“There is nothing wrong with doing something for a friend out of the goodness of one’s heart,” was Siwon’s stiff reply.  
  
“No, indeed, except I don’t believe that it is the case here," Kangin pointed out triumphantly. "Spill it out, man.”  
  
Siwon visibly struggled with himself for a few seconds, before finally relenting with a sigh. “I am not without a personal interest in the matter,” he admitted in a low voice.  
  
“That much is obvious to me,” Kangin said dryly. “But what is this so-called personal interest exactly?”  
  
The uncomfortable look in Siwon's face grew in direct proportion of his voice falling even lower. “It is my sincerest hope,” he was practically whispering by now, “that perhaps through you, I might be able to become more closely acquainted with his family.”  
  
“This has something to do with your infatuation, doesn’t it?” Kangin accused.  
  
“For the hundredth time, it isn’t an infatuation,” Siwon said indignantly. “I am in love.”  
  
“The fact that you can say it out loud in broad daylight while being sober—and in a public place no less—really disturbs me,” Kangin declared.  
  
“ _He_ will also be there today. I cannot afford to blend in with the masses if I wish to capture his attention,” was Siwon’s solemn defence.  
  
“Believe me, my friend, you have many estimable fortes, but _blending in_ is so not one of them,” he pointed out, rolling his eyes. They were leaving the park area and their destination could now be seen looming in the distance, a grand edifice of neo-classical style that wore its ostentatious golden glory with as much vanity as its owner. Kangin sighed. “Fine, I will be your alibi—or a cog in your nefarious scheme, as it were.”  
  
He was rewarded with a smile so wide and bright it was a wonder that the sun had not actually fallen from the sky and stood in front of him. “You won’t regret this.”  
  
“I already have, actually,” Kangin muttered under his breath. Still, he could not deny that he was curious. So far, he had yet to earn a glimpse of the infamous young man who had captured Choi Siwon’s heart, and this might just be the opportunity. And no, it did not come out of any desire to make fun of his friend.  
  
At least not entirely.  
  
They arrived with some time to spare. The tea party had yet to begin, but most of the guests had already crowded the garden behind the house and a low murmur was now pervading the open space. Unused to this sort of setting, Kangin hid his discomfort behind an expressionless mask as they made their way to pay respect to their hostess.  
  
Lady Kwon Yuri, young, beautiful, and recently wedded to the new—and regrettably vain—Duke of Argyll had been the belle of society since the moment of her debut. Her marriage to one of the most powerful noblemen in England only strengthened her position as a lady of distinction, but it did not dim the warmth of her smile as she watched their approach from a corner where she held court among the more distinguished personas of her guests.  
  
“Mr Choi, Mr Kim,” her low, musical voice greeted them pleasantly. “And here I was wondering if my invitation had been rebuffed.”  
  
“To rebuff the invitation from such a beautiful lady is a crime most appalling,” Siwon replied smoothly, his lips lightly brushing the back of her hand. Kangin resisted an urge to roll his eyes, mostly for the lady’s sake.  
  
After performing the gesture himself, he gladly let his friend take care of the exchange of pleasantries. Small talks were a waste of time in Kangin’s opinion—and in any case, he preferred the more straightforward company of men to the layered subtleties which marked the ladies’ conversational style. Siwon, on the other hand, had practically been brought up from one social party to another. This was where he thrived, under so many pairs of eyes and shining all the more brightly for it.  
  
They only excused themselves from Lady Kwon’s presence when more guests arrived. Kangin had just allowed himself to enjoy a long sigh of relief when Siwon suddenly hissed in front of his ear.  
  
“There they are.”  
  
“They?” he repeated blankly. Siwon made no answer, but his grip on Kangin’s arm gave the older man no choice but to follow him—to the direction of two men who were standing near the bushes of white roses, a little apart from the other guests.  
  
They looked decidedly familiar. Kangin could feel a vague sensation of nausea starting to crawl in his stomach.  
  
“Mr Park, Mr Cho,” he heard his friend say once they were close enough, “may I introduce you to my close friend and business associate, Mr Kim?”  
  
The two men turned around, and Kangin discovered that the universe was indeed laughing in his face.  
  


  


•

  
  


  
**In which Kangin discovered that he might have been infected as well.**  
  
That they were currently in the house of a very distinguished lady was the only reason why Kangin had not dragged his friend outside and screamed at him.  
  
Park Jungsoo, at least, had the decency to act as if no embarrassing prior meeting had taken place between any of them. The same, however, could not be said about his cousin. As recognition dawned, his expression turned into the most horrified disbelief, followed by a scowl so deep and hostile that Kangin had to suppress an urge to mimic it.  
  
And then he realised, in horror, that it was _this boy_ who was the love of Siwon’s life.  
  
Again, Kangin had to cling to his every sense of dignity and decorum not to break down screaming at his friend. True, he was a fervent believer of the _laissez-faire_ dogma, that one man must not judge another for there could never be any reckoning of taste—but this was beyond ridiculous.  
  
While his entire concentration was engaged in this mental process, introductions and small talks, mostly conducted by Siwon and Jungsoo, had appropriately been made. The conversation now took a turn to a more professional nature, and Kangin realised that he had to begin making a more substantial contribution since it was _his_ business which was at stake.  
  
“Mr Kim has an unimpeachable reputation as a man of business,” he heard his friend say—and from the corner of his eyes, he could see the boy making a decidedly rude expression after hearing this bit of praise. “I believe you would find that there could be no danger of his company being involved in any unpleasant scandal, illegal or otherwise.”  
  
Still wearing a smile that carved a faint shadow of a dimple under the left corner of his lips (which Kangin could not help but notice), Park Jungsoo met his gaze warily. “I certainly would like to discuss this matter further, if the gentleman does not mind,” was his polite answer.  
  
“Then I shall leave you two,” Siwon concluded—much too eagerly, in Kangin’s opinion. He threw a glare at his friend’s direction, but the other man did not seem to notice, already absorbed in his campaign to earn something other than a scowl from the love of his life. His grin, Kangin thought viciously, looked positively daft, not to mention disturbing.  
  
With a sigh, he returned to his present company. “You do not have to humour him, you know,” he said stiffly.  
  
The other man gave him a look which successfully made him feel like an idiot. “Your friend, Mr Kim,” Jungsoo said flatly, “is a very powerful man, and the last thing I want to do is to offend him in any way.”  
  
Kangin simply had to smirk at that. “I don’t believe you have anything to worry about on that score. In case you haven't noticed, he is too far gone to be offended by what you—or your cousin, for that matter—might say or do.”  
  
Jungsoo glanced at the direction of the pair who, Kangin noticed with barely concealed glee, looked anything but comfortable with each other. At the moment, the boy looked downright intimidated by the handsome man who was still generously pouring every bit of heartfelt attention upon his person—and the only thing that prevented Kangin from giggling like a madman was the reminder that he was, in fact, a part of this miserable charade.  
  
“It does not change the fact that our problem is not yet solved,” Jungsoo suddenly spoke again, pulling him out of his world of private amusement. “To speak frankly, Mr Kim, it is to our best interest to find a suitable alternative as soon as possible, so if your company can provide the ships and insurance we need, then I am not at all adverse to the idea of forming a partnership, regardless of our opinions of each other.”  
  
Kangin found himself staring at the other man, torn between uncertainty and amazement. It would seem that his interest in Park Jungsoo had not been misplaced after all.  
  
“Opinions are very rarely set in stone, Mr Park,” he finally said, careful to keep his voice neutral. “In fact, mine are still very much subject to change.”  
  
It was the other man’s turn to stare at him, his expression surprised if not exactly friendly. Kangin did not realise that he was holding his breath until Jungsoo opened his mouth to reply. “Well then, I suppose I can begin with a more extensive explanation of our business.”  
  
Kangin could feel the beginning of a grin on his lips (but at least he didn't look as idiotic as his friend.)  
  
  
 ** _End Chapter 2_**  
  
  
---  
  
  


  



	3. Chapter 3

  
**In which Kangin discovered that his best friend was in fact worse than his cousin.**  
  
“Are you out of your mind?”  
  
Only once they had safely returned to the relative privacy of their club that Kangin finally gave full vent to his emotions. They found themselves sequestered in one of the smaller rooms—courtesy of Mr Shin, after seeing the look in Kangin’s face—where they would neither disturb nor be disturbed by other members of the club.  
  
“I thought you agreed that it was an excellent business opportunity,” Siwon said, frowning at him.  
  
“I’m talking about the boy,” Kangin pointed out acidly. “He’s a _boy_.”  
  
“He is twenty-two years of age, thank you very much.”  
  
“Ha! That’s barely even out of school! What are you doing messing about with a boy that young?”  
  
“I do not _mess about_ with him,” was Siwon's cold, dignified reply. “I already told you. I am in love.”  
  
Kangin resisted an urge to knock his head against the nearest rigid surface. (Mr Shin certainly would not appreciate his attempt to destroy the club's property, accidental or otherwise.) Instead, he decided on a more rational approach, namely appealing to the other man's reason—which unfortunately seemed to have fled to God knows where as soon as Cho Kyuhyun's name entered the conversation.  
  
“Look, you know this isn’t about him being a man—I’d be a hypocrite otherwise—but why does it have to be _him_?”  
  
Siwon met his gaze squarely from his own seat at the other side of the room. “Has there ever been a true or honest answer to that question?” he challenged in return. “Either you fall in love with someone or you don’t. Reasons, especially carefully thought of reasons, make it dishonest.”  
  
“Stop being so damn quixotic for once,” Kangin growled. “You know what you are. The number of difficulties, troubles, challenges you're going to face if you really try to go on with this is beyond astronomical.”  
  
A small, ironic smile quirked the other man's lips. “And you think I haven’t thought about any of these?”  
  
The answer made Kangin pause, surprised, for five seconds or so, but he was quick to recover. “I thought that after the example set by your elder sister—her marrying the heir of a very respectable marquessate—it would just be a matter of time before you’d try to outdo her, ensnare the daughter of a duke, and then throw the grandest wedding of the century. Wasn’t that what your parents had in mind?”  
  
Siwon was silent for a moment. “I have yet to make any decision regarding the matter,” he said at last.  
  
“So this is just a temporary fling.”  
  
His friend looked up in surprise. “What? No, of course not. Whatever makes you think that?”  
  
It was Kangin's turn to frown. “You said you haven’t made a decision.”  
  
“You misunderstood me.” Siwon laced his fingers together on his lap, an amused glint in his eyes. “What I meant was, I didn’t know if he would care very much for such a grand wedding.”  
  
For a moment, Kangin had to wonder how on earth he could have ever thought that _Heechul_ was bad; Siwon in love was infinitely worse. “Please bear in mind that at this point, he still cannot even look at you without scowling,” he said darkly.  
  
“Ah.” Siwon grinned. “But that is where patience comes in, isn’t it? After all, every great love must first be put through mountains of insurmountable tests.”  
  
This time, Kangin did knock his head against the nearest hard surface available, which proved to be a side table and resulted in the tumbling of a full glass of Scotch.  
  
“When I fall in love,” he vowed, “you’re going to suffer even worse than this.”  
  


  


•

  
**In which Kangin found himself still caught in the same predicaments six months later.**  
  
There were conclusions upon conclusions which could be drawn after half-a-year of partnership, but only a few of them, unfortunately, were to Kangin’s liking, if at all.  
  
First: Siwon, as per usual, had been correct. Whatever Kangin’s prejudice and misconceptions had been at the beginning of this arrangement, the new affiliation had proven itself to be both profitable and beneficial for the two parties involved.  
  
It quickly became obvious in the third week of their collaboration that Park Jungsoo had severely understated the actual extent of their family business. Kangin was agreeably surprised to find that _tea_ was merely the first layer of the package. The rest was duly revealed as soon as he had proven himself capable of handling the scope of business expected from his company satisfactorily. In the fifth month, with Siwon as a third party who was more than willing to finance the entire enterprise, they were already looking at a joint venture of an unprecedented scale.  
  
Second (and this was Kangin’s favourite, for no other reason than that _his_ initial judgment had been shown to be accurate, however bitter or unpleasant): Cho Kyuhyun was indeed every bit as insufferable as he had thought, if not more. While he must admit that the boy had uncanny business acumen—and this fact only worsened the awestruck look which had taken permanent residence on Siwon’s face around the younger man—his attitude toward Kangin was absolutely dreadful to the point of nastiness. It was almost as if Kyuhyun had made it his personal crusade to get on Kangin's nerves every time they happened to be in the same place at the same time.  
  
And to make matters even worse, the younger man had also formed an immediate—perhaps even natural—connection with Heechul, who gladly played the role of a gleeful spectator to their ridiculous drama. “We are creatures of the same realm,” he mentioned with a smirk upon an occasion, further convincing Kangin that he was, indeed, doomed.  
  
The third conclusion, however, gave him pause. Kangin did not particularly wish to analyse his growing attachment to one of the two men who had recently come into his life. Instead, he raised his gaze surreptitiously from the sheet of document he had been inspecting. He was in the cousins’ house in Eaton Square and currently the two were immersed in a solemn conversation at the other side of the coffee table, discussing the newest proposal he had just made.  
  
After six months, he understood how the cousins worked. Kyuhyun was the bright sparks of daring, often outrageous ideas, and Jungsoo was the force that kept them grounded. In fact, it was the latter who had literally held the family business together since Kyuhyun’s parents’ passing in a crossing. Kangin could easily imagine how Jungsoo, being an orphan himself since an early age, had tried to spare his cousin all the pain he could by acting much as a surrogate parent as an older brother to the younger boy.  
  
Which would also explain his tendency to take Kyuhyun’s side every time an argument broke between him and Kangin. Perhaps it was natural enough, but Kangin could not help but feel a little bitter when he was confronted by the fact. It seemed that everyone but him had a soft spot for Cho Kyuhyun.  
  
In any case, he reflected, a new smile already hovering over his lips at the sight of Jungsoo unconsciously stroking the left side of his chin with an ink-stained thumb (a habit when he was deep in thought), his own strained relationship with the elder of the cousins had shifted into something more cordial, if not exactly friendly. It was not in Jungsoo’s nature to hold grudge (unlike his cousin’s); neither was he disposed to think ill of a person whom he was only growing to know (again, unlike his cousin).  
  
It was at this point of his reflection that a knock came to the door of the drawing room, and the butler appeared to announce the arrival of Mr Choi Siwon.  
  
Kangin tried not to grin too widely at how Kyuhyun’s contemplative expression was transformed at once into horror. Not two seconds later, the younger man had turned a pair of accusing eyes to his direction.  
  
“What is _he_ doing here?”  
  
“I’m sure I do not know,” Kangin replied mildly, “but by all means, you are welcome to ask him yourself.”  
  
Kyuhyun’s face practically said that he would rather endure the threat of the guillotine. Kangin made a heroic effort not to show how much he actually enjoyed the scene, if only because Jungsoo was present in the room.  
  
Siwon strode in, bringing all the brightness lacked by the sun outside into the room. His expression registered a moderate amount of surprise at finding Kangin there, but it was quickly checked by another blinding smile.  
  
“Splendid, your also being here will save me a journey to your place,” he began after a quick bow—which was mostly directed to Kyuhyun, who by now had relocated himself to the window (no doubt a desperate attempt to get as far as possible from the new visitor.) “Gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to extend an invitation from my sister to you all for a shooting party at Harpscourt, a week after the New Year’s Day.”  
  
Kangin raised his eyebrows. “A shooting party? You don’t usually hold one so late in the season.”  
  
“I received a letter from her this morning,” Siwon explained, the excitement clear in his voice. “We have been far too occupied the last few months, with our new project and all, that it was quite impossible to have a shooting. But she is so very keen on meeting our two new friends, and so she suggests a later date, in hope that it will not be refused.”  
  
Kangin did not wonder at that. He had no doubt that Sooyoung, Siwon’s younger sister and currently the mistress of Harpscourt, the Choi family’s country seat, had heard everything about the young man who had supposedly stolen her brother’s heart and could no longer contain her curiosity.  
  
Jungsoo responded first—seeing that his cousin would never willingly open his mouth in this case unless it was an outright refusal. “We are honoured by the invitation. Certainly, if the lady truly wishes it, there could be no question of refusal.”  
  
“I assure you, it is her most ardent wish,” Siwon said solemnly, before turning to the object of his affection—who was still determined to give the window his full, undivided attention; a trace of Siwon’s self-assurance immediately disappeared upon the sight. “And, of course,” he hesitated, “you will come too?”  
  
When it became obvious that everyone in the room would wait for his answer until kingdom comes, Kyuhyun finally turned around and shot the other man a glare. “Why would I?”  
  
And that was when Kangin was reminded to another good thing which had come out of this curious partnership, namely the extra amusement of watching his charming and eloquent friend disintegrate into a bumbling, love-struck idiot, his inimitable brand of _je ne sais quoi_ evaporating into thin air. After all, what could one expect from a love story which began with a glare— _the glare of doom_ , as Heechul had cheerfully named it after Hangeng’s detailed retelling of the notorious first meeting for the thirteenth time.  
  
“Because it has been our custom–” Siwon began, then backtracked, and then tried again with renewed determination. “That is to say, a shooting party is always held down at Harpscourt every year, and while it may be a little late in the season, the weather there is seldom very disagreeable, even in winter.”  
  
“I hate outdoor sports.”  
  
Siwon looked crestfallen—and slightly heartbroken—but the man was nothing if not persevering. “You don't have to participate in the shoot if you don't want to,” he explained diplomatically.  
  
Kyuhyun's glare only intensified. “What is the point of joining a shooting party if I don't shoot?”  
  
“Well, there are some beautiful walks around the estate, which I’m sure you will enjoy.”  
  
“What sort of _beautiful_ walks can there be during winter when everything is dead?”  
  
“Maybe not exactly beautiful,” the taller man still persisted, despite finding each and every argument leaving his mouth brutally thwarted and countered, “but you haven't seen much of the countryside since you came back to England, have you?”  
  
“I'm perfectly fine with living in a city for the rest of my life, thank you very much,” Kyuhyun retorted flatly.  
  
An expression of the most abject disappointment crossed Siwon’s face for a moment, but his spirit clearly refused to despair. Instead, he quickly switched tracks and commenced another plan. “What about you, Jungsoo?” he asked the older cousin. “Are you fond of shooting?”  
  
“I’m afraid I’m not a very good shooter,” Jungsoo answered with a small, noncommittal smile.  
  
“But you are not averse to the idea of a shooting party?”  
  
“It has been quite some time since I participated in one,” he replied after a quick, cautious glance at his cousin’s direction. “And so did Kyuhyun. But I'm afraid our presence will only become a nuisance to an intimate party.”  
  
“You have absolutely nothing to worry on that score,” Siwon quickly said. “The party is small and intended for no other reason but entertainment—merely friends gathering together to enjoy a few days of well-deserved amusement and rest.”  
  
“Who else is coming?” Kangin decided to interrupt at this point.  
  
“Well, there’s the three of us—you, Heechul, and I—and now Hangeng of course. A couple of neighbours, maybe, and some of the usual guns.”  
  
“And their sisters, I believe.”  
  
“And some of the ladies, yes,” Siwon replied darkly, frowning at his friend—who only grinned innocently in return. Kyuhyun, still determined to be engrossed by an unidentifiable spectacle outside the window, made no reaction to the newest bit of information. This display of apathy, however, did not stop Siwon from darting to his side at once, profuse with explanations.  
  
Kangin inwardly snorted, turning away from the pair who had begun whispering in each other’s ear—one beseechingly and the other viciously.  
  
“What kind of lady is Miss Choi?” Jungsoo suddenly asked from across the table,  
  
Kangin deliberated for a moment before answering. “A very accomplished one, if we go by the popular social vernacular,” he began with a smile. “Widely admired too, and all in all regarded as an excellent credit to her brother—which is saying something if one's brother is _the_ Choi Siwon.”  
  
“Ah, indeed,” Jungsoo murmured, a small ironic smile playing on his lips. His gaze once more drifted to the direction of the tall man who was still in the middle of arguing his line of reasoning.  
  
And all of a sudden, out of the blue, in a flash of divine inspiration—Kangin realised what that pained look in Jungsoo’s eyes meant.  
  
Jealousy reared its head like a terrible monster inside his chest. True enough, it would not be the first time such a thing had happened; this, however, was the first time Kangin felt such an irrational and indescribable hate toward the man who had been his close friend for the last ten years.  
  
He took several deep breaths to calm himself and forced his attention to turn to a more impersonal query.  
  
“Are you really not interested?”  
  
“It isn't actually a question of interest,” Jungsoo replied in a low voice, throwing one last glance at Kyuhyun and his very determined suitor. A soft sigh escaped his lips—which made Kangin want to introduce his fist to a tangible surface, preferably the unforgivably handsome face of his friend. “What do you think yourself, Mr Kim?”  
  
He suppressed a wince at the overly formal address (a barrier which Siwon had successfully overcome, to Kangin's utmost displeasure—although not in the younger cousin’s case, which soothed the sting a little.) “Any challenging outdoor sport aside, the place itself is certainly something to see,” he said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. “Besides, it’s only for three days.”  
  
Jungsoo sank into thoughtful silence. “I shall leave the decision to my cousin,” he said at last.  
  
Kangin was about to submit a fresh argument when noises erupted from the corner he had fastidiously ignored. Siwon’s herald of victory consisted of a squeak-like sound, a dimpled smile of surpassing brightness, and three whispered, heartfelt _thank you_ ’s, after which he then took his beloved’s hands and bestowed a kiss on them.  
  
Kyuhyun’s face went into a series of interesting shades of red. (They could easily cover the entire range of the emotional spectrum, from livid to embarrassed, even enraptured.)  
  
“I suppose that settles the matter,” Kangin muttered dryly.  
  
  
 ** _End Chapter 3_**  


  


  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update after a long, looooooooong time.

  
Their respective position of master and servant notwithstanding, Hyukjae turned out to be the one beyond ecstatic at the prospect of a shooting party at Harpscourt.

As their coach was hurtling in full speed toward the country seat of the Choi family, Kangin felt an increasing need for a few stern words to remind his valet that as far as he was concerned, he wished to know as little as possible about any escapade which might or might not happen in Lee Donghae's bedroom during their stay at Harpscourt.

The look Hyukjae gave him in return was cold and reproachful.

“Why would I wish to publicly herald any account of what will obviously be a very happy, very intimate, and very personal moment of my life—if it indeed takes place?”

Kangin refrained from pointing out the myriads of times when such scenario had occurred in the past. An offended manservant would only mean bracing every discomfort during his stay in his friend's house alone and he was not particularly inclined to martyrdom at the moment.

The journey took them nearly the entire day. As a result, they were among the last to arrive and the estate was already nestled in the shadowy embrace of an early winter sunset by the time the carriage finally came before the impressive presence of Harpscourt.

It was the Choi family’s loyal butler who welcomed him at the front door with his usual deference. The family members, Kangin was informed as a pair of footmen saw to the safe transportation of his luggage, had withdrawn to their rooms until dinnertime. So had the rest of the guests. Would he like to do the same?

Kangin quickly agreed, only too glad for a chance of rest after the long journey. However, no sooner had he stepped into his room than another footman arrived, bearing a message from Miss Choi that he was to see her in the drawing room as soon as he had settled in.

Kangin smiled in wry resignation. Patience was certainly never the virtue of the Chois.

 

•

 

“So, is it the elder or the younger?”

Kangin accepted a glass of cocktail offered by the inestimable butler and then turned his attention to his hostess. Miss Choi Sooyoung, enchantingly pretty in a blue evening dress, was clearly expecting an answer.

“Will you at least allow me a drink first?” he replied dryly. “I arrived but minutes ago.”

She smiled and placed her beautifully gloved fingers under her chin. So far there were only the two of them in the drawing room, the other guests having yet to come down from their rooms. While strict decorum might frown on such unconventional arrangement—her being an unmarried lady and his an unmarried man—Kangin knew very well that no harm could come to the lady’s reputation from his mere presence. He was an intimate friend of the family and they had known each other since Sooyoung had been but a little girl of nine.

Choi Sooyoung was exactly the kind of woman whose hand he would certainly endeavour to win were he at all attracted to the fairer sex. Her physical beauty aside, she was an intelligent, charming young lady who could hold her own ground in almost any situation. Among her many accomplishments was the fact that he had presided over the Choi household for years since her parents’ death and her sister’s marriage.

As a young woman of distinction, Sooyoung might be little too overbearing at times, but she played her role as the lady of the house to such perfection that her brother could practically find no cause for complaint. Even so, Kangin had sometimes found himself wondering what would happen if one day Siwon were to marry and she would have to relinquish her position to another woman.

Although there was probably little fear of that now, he reflected wryly as he finished the last few sips from his glass,

“I thought your brother’s letters would have made it clear which one of them was his _inamorato_ ,” he finally addressed his waiting hostess.

Sooyoung made an expression most unladylike at his roundabout answer. “No. They revealed very little outside the fact that he had met perfection personified and was very much in love.”

“Well, now you understand how I’ve felt for the last nine months.”

“But which one of them?” she persisted.

Kangin grinned. “Why don’t you venture a guess?”

Sooyoung readily accepted his challenge. “The elder is very pleasant,” she began, amusing herself with idle guessing. “He has a handsome countenance, a charming smile, and from what I have gathered so far, is a perfect gentleman in every way. As for the younger cousin, he has such soft, beautiful features and also a wonderfully enchanting voice, so pleasant to the ears although perhaps too inclined to reticence. There is a deep, soothing quality to it which I seldom find in anyone else.” She paused, tapping a finger on her chin. “They both have agreeable qualities to recommend them to my brother’s affection. Still, the question remains. Which of them is it?”

“Spend five seconds in the same room with them all and you shall find your answer,” Kangin declared matter-of-factly.

“Is it serious though?” At this question, her voice took a more solemn turn. The look in her eyes told him that the lady siting opposite him was now a protective sister whose sole concern was her beloved brother. “He fell in love within seconds of meeting this person. Whoever has heard of such a thing except in novels?

“You cannot rationalise love, my dear,” Kangin replied sagely, “and I can assure you that your brother has contracted the most severe type of the disease.”

A small frown settled on her white brow. “It sounds so incredible. I’m not even sure if he has ever been in love before, let alone to this degree”

“From my experience, it is exactly such type who falls the hardest when they finally do.” He paused, and then added with a playful smirk, “Which means that you also have to be careful, milady.”

Sooyoung laughed. “Fear not, I am always on my guard,” she declared, just as a footman appeared at the door and announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Jung.

 

•

 

It was a party of sixteen who finally seated themselves around the long dinner table. Nine gentlemen and seven ladies engaged each other in light conversations as they enjoyed the sumptuous four-course dinner, as expected from a table at Harpscourt.

One thing Kangin enjoyed the most about house parties was the meals. For three days of excellent spread, he would deign to suffer even the troublesome etiquette of changing clothes five times a day—which, thankfully enough, was not required this time around. The shooting party was not as formal in nature, and Siwon and Sooyoung rather liked to keep their guests in amiable comfort rather than the stiff armour of decorum.

Siwon played the part of a perfect, amiable host in the manner of one who had been born to it. He was especially in his element in front of an audience, steering the flow of the conversation with the assistance of his equally adept sister as silent-footed servants fluttered around the long table to deliver course after course. Amidst small conversations with Lady Jung on his right and Han Geng on his left, Kangin watched with no little degree of amusement how the ladies present flirted endlessly with his friend.

A dinner would be an excellent opportunity to observe. To his disappointment, Kyuhyun’s expression remained inscrutable, his attention mostly directed at the succession of culinary excellence placed before him. The same, however, could not be said about the other cousin. Kangin could not help but notice Jungsoo’s increasingly narrowed eyes by the beginning of the third course. The object of this intent scrutiny was no other than his own cousin, Taeyeon, who was seated on Siwon’s left and currently engaged in an animated discussion with their host.

Kangin frowned. The sight brought an unpleasant weight to his stomach—which cause he was far from eager to examine. It continued throughout until dessert and after, when the ladies had once more repaired to the drawing room.

Meanwhile, the gentlemen lingered over port and leisurely discussions on the new Conservative government. Despite holding much interest in politics, he found that he simply could not care less at the moment—not after he had witnessed the way Jungsoo’s grim expression was completely transformed into smiles once Siwon had turned his attention to him. Instead, he remained in his chair, helping himself liberally to glass after glass of the sweet wine until Han Geng put a hand over his wrist.

“I think you’ve had enough.” His voice was gentle but firm, as was his grip.

Kangin found a frown ready on his temple. “I am more than capable of handling a few sips of port, thank you very much,” he declared in a loud voice.

A moment later, he realised that he had drawn the entire room’s attention with his loud exclamation, including Jungsoo and Siwon’s. He could read disapproval in the former’s expression and unconcealed surprise in his old friend’s. Kangin swallowed a curse; he must have looked like a low-bred ruffian drinking his way to intoxication without the slightest care to propriety.

“Perhaps we should join the ladies now,” Siwon finally broke the awkward silence with a firm suggestion.

The rest of the company readily agreed. Kangin followed them all to the drawing room, deliberately avoiding his concerned friend by settling next to his cousin and her friend instead of joining the bridge table. He noticed that Kyuhyun made one of the players, which left Siwon without a proper target for the rest of the night.

That his friend should end up conversing with Jungsoo was perhaps natural enough. They were soon immersed in a lively discussion over their mutual interest in books. Siwon, being a great reader, was especially conversant in the subject, but this was the first time Kangin discovered, to his chagrin, that Jungsoo had a similar interest. In fact, it was such a strong interest that the excitement brought a most attractive glow to his countenance.

Or perhaps it was the company. The thought slipped in unbidden and refused to leave, curling in a dark corner of his mind like an evil, poisonous snake. Kangin was left to suffer its presence in silence as conversations whirled around him.

The night progressed slowly. Kyuhyun decimated everyone at card, after which tension began to rise. Fortunately, Sooyoung had the presence of mind to pull him out of the table and engage him in a game of chess before the amiable balance of the night could deteriorate. Kangin started to feel the effect of too much port in his system and was only too relieved when the company dispersed to prepare for an early morning tomorrow

 

•

 

Afterwards, Kangin would reason to himself that he was not in full possession of his faculties and therefore, perhaps, was not to be held entirely responsible for what which had transpired. Had he drunk less, there would have been every chance that the disaster could be averted.

Moments before the occurrence of said disaster, however, he had no notion at all of its approach. He was heading for his room in the bachelor's wing, his walk rather unsteady and his thoughts heavily burdened with remembrances of smiles and who had elicited them, that he scarcely heeded his progress. He opened a door, and only after three steps and a gasp did he realise that it was, in fact, the wrong door.

“Mr Kim?”

The name roused him to sharper sensibilities, for a moment giving him an acute pain which source he knew not in the haze of too much alcohol. At the next moment, he found himself confronted by a sight more beautiful than any his imagination could conjure in its present condition. Jungsoo was standing in the middle of the room with a perplexed expression on his face, white shirt half opened and hair in the most becoming state of disarray. The candle's glow cast a particularly lovely shade on his face and Kangin could only stare in silence as he was struck by the agonising realisation that this exquisite being was in love with his best friend.

“What are you doing here?” Another question was issued from those enchanting lips when silence continued on from his part. “Are you all right, Mr Kim?”

The last question finally shook him out of his trance—directly into a fresh wave of indignation. “My name is Kangin,” he declared, only vaguely aware of his voice rising to a shout. “Would it kill you to call me by my first name instead of always Mr Kim Mr Kim and Mr Kim?

A frown appeared on Jungsoo’s brow. "Is this the purpose of your coming into my bedroom at such late hour?”

Anger curled his lips into a sneer and jealousy put the words of insult ready on his tongue. “What are you, a virgin?”

Jungsoo was silent for a moment, his expression turning to ice. “You are inebriated,” he finally said in his coldest voice. “I must ask you to leave.”

Kangin laughed. “Of course. What a pity that it’s only me. If I were someone else—my affluent, handsome friend, for example—you would gladly invite him into your bed.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he knew that he deserved to have the door slammed in his face.

And it was.  
  


**_End Chapter 4  
_ **


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